


Nine Years

by Gebo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gebo/pseuds/Gebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-ep ficlet for In the Name of the Brother. temporalteatime prompted: Woobie!Gold has been helping Belle French and her son, doing odd jobs. He falls in love with her. Smut included please, somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Years

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me. It started out fluffy, but it got away from me really fast.

“I could not, for the life of me, figure that out!” the librarian exclaimed as Mr. Gold stepped back from the freshly re-attached bookshelves. He smiled at her as he reached for the cane that was hanging from the back of a nearby armchair. The smile did not quite reach his eyes.

“It’s no problem at all, Ms. French.” He looked away from her, but not so quickly as to hide the moment of pain in his eye. He had that look often, whenever she saw him. She had to wonder if he was always like that, or if it was only around her. She shook the thought from her head before it really had time to take root. She had put all of that to rest years ago. “Best not let the wee one hang from the shelves anymore,” he said as he gathered his coat from the rack in the corner and stepped towards the door.

“No… I mean, yes! James has always been a climber, since before he could walk.” She stepped after him, feeling like she was chasing a skittish cat. “Do…,” she hesitated. “Would you like a cup of tea? Or… coffee, perhaps.” He stopped at the door, his hand on the handle and his head bowed. For one terrifying moment, Belle feared he would ignore her invitation. Then he was turning back to her, with a strained smile on his face like he was forcing himself to control some powerful emotion, and nodded.

“I’d like that.”

Her face split in a huge smile and she led him to the back of the library, where her old apartment was. She kept it tidy and clean, so though the air was a bit stale from lack of circulation, the space felt comfortable enough. She moved to the stove and put the kettle on, before rummaging the cabinets for a pair of mismatched mugs and a box of assorted teabags.

“Pick your poison,” she said as she offered him the box for his perusal. “I’m afraid I keep the good leaves at home, and I don’t have a pot here, so we’ll have t-“

“Won’t your husband be along soon,” he interrupted, fingering through the disorganized packets of tea with more focus than was strictly necessary, “to collect you?” Belle pulled her hand back from him as if he had tried to bite her. He looked up at her through wisps of hair that had fallen into his face.

“My husband… is out of town today.” She did not need to explain herself to him. She had no obligation to tell him of her husband’s whereabouts, and yet she felt the need to tell him something. “On business,” she finished weakly.

He stood up abruptly, dropping the cardboard box of tea onto the table and taking a step towards her.

“And you son, Ms. French?” he asked. “The young master Jones?” His face twisted into a grimace of pain as he said the name. She lifted her chin defiantly.

“James is at school. And my name isn’t French anymore, Mr. Gold. It’s Belle Jones and it has been for eight years.” She looked him in the eyes, daring him to argue with her, daring him to judge her. He didn’t say another word, only turned and walked to the other side of the kitchen, to the fridge where a wedding photo was held by a magnet. He pulled the photo out from under the magnet and glared at it. The expression of disgust on his face was almost enough to ignite fury in her chest, but it was tempered a moment later by the cry that tore from his throat. It was a sound like a wounded animal and it shook her to her very core. He rested his back against the kitchen wall and slid down it, his bad leg stretched out before him, his cane forgotten. She went to him, knelt beside him to try and see his face, but he rubbed his hands over his cheeks, hiding from her.

“There are times when I think you remember,” he was saying quietly. “There are times when I see how unhappy you are, and it kills me to know I can’t help. It kills me that you won’t let me help.” Confused by his words and alarmed be his behavior, Belle pulled Gold’s hands away from his face. When he looked at her now, he looked at broken that she felt her heart ache. “Belle….”

“Why do you hate my husband so much?” Where had that question come from? Of all the questions she had for him, that one was hardly the most important. The enmity between Gold and her husband was hardly anything new or surprising; the entire town knew of that.

“Are you happy with him?” he asked, ignoring her question entirely.

“I… You came to me. In the hospital that day.” She was evading his question, but she didn’t care. “You came to me with a cup. Told me it was my talisman, but I’d never seen it before. You told me to concentrate. Concentrate so that I would remember.” She stared at him, the memories from all those years ago still so vivid that it could have been yesterday.

“Yes…,” Gold said weakly, unable to meet her eyes.

“Remember what? What don’t I remember?” He shook his head helplessly, but Belle was not letting it go that easily. “Nine years! Nine years ago, you told me to remember!” She grasped his shoulders tightly, partly to force him to look at her, but also to keep her own hands from shaking. “What don’t I remember, Mr. Gold?!” Gold finally looked her in the eyes, a fire inside of them that she had never seen before.

“Me.” And suddenly, his lips were on hers, and there was a burning in her stomach and a sensation like a breeze inside her mind. Her eyes fluttered closed, only to snap open a second later. Her mind was so clear! For the first time in nearly a decade, she understood the emotions she felt. She felt like she could breathe again, like all of the colors and sounds and smells around his were more real, more vivid. She gasped against his lips and pulled away just far enough to see into her eyes.

“R-Rumpelstiltskin.”

He looked like he did not know whether to sob, or laugh. His arms went around her tightly like he thought if he let go she might fall back under the amnesia.

“Belle.” She raised one hand to slide it over his cheek, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. Their lips met again, and this time it was with a desperation of nine years apart. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and was immediately finding all of the places that made her whimper into his mouth. He swept his tongue over her teeth, moaning when she nipped at him gently. She hands were busy yanking at his tie and shirt buttons. He pulled at her blouse, un-tucking it from her slacks and pulling it up over her head, forcing them to break their heated kiss. Before she could meet him again, his mouth with at her throat. He pulled the skin at her pulse point into his mouth and bit, enough to mark, but not enough to cause much pain. She gasped.

“Don’t leave anything noticeable…. Killian-“

“I don’t give a damn with that bastard sees or thinks,” Rumpelstiltskin growled. He had pulled her more firmly onto his lap so that she straddled him, and now gripped her hip with one hand. His other hand went behind her neck to pull her to him.

“He’s my husband, Rumpel….” This statement earned her another bite mark. “The father of my child….” The sound he made was so bestial, so guttural that she gasped and pulled back to stare at him. “Rum….”

“He stole you from me, Belle! He took you from me, turned you against me!” The fury in his voice was betrayed by the pain in his eyes and the lines of his face. “He pulled you from me and you married him, Belle! Nine years, Belle! Nine! You’ve been sleeping in a bed with the man who tore us apart, and I…. I need to make you mine!” He lunged at her again, sucking and licking at the lines of her collar bone. She moaned his name, which only encouraged him further.

She fumbled with his belt and trouser button for a moment before pushing at them. He lifted his hips just enough for her to shimmy his trousers down his legs. Her pants came next, which was rather more difficult. All that was left between them was the thin fabric of her underwear. He looked up at her again, nostrils flared with the effort to catch his breath.

“Rumpel….. I’m sorry.” But she knew nothing she could say would make a difference now.

“I need you, Belle. Please.” His voice was quiet and deep, sounding almost strangled. His fingers found their way past the strip of fabric at her core and swept against her. “Please,” he said again.

“Yes.” It was all the permission he needed. With a flick of one finger, her underwear was gone, vanished by magic. He tested her with two fingers, curving them inside of her in a way that had her quivering against him. A moment later, he lifted her up and lowered her onto his length.

A huge sigh escaped him and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as they just looked at each other. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, while she ran a hand through his hair.

“Belle….” And, oh, should would never tire of hearing her name of his lips. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips before resting her forehead against his.

“I’m here, Rumpel. I remember.” She began to moved, slowly, all the desperation gone from their movements. They could have forever together. Nothing was stopping them but a few silly papers. They would find a way to be together, they always would.

She fought the urge to let her head fall back as they picked up speed. She wanted to see him now, like she hadn’t seen him in nine years. His back was pressed against the wall of the kitchen, his hand still guiding her hips as she rose and fell on his laps. “I remember,” she said again, as if he might have forgotten. “I remember.”

He kept his eyes on her face as she felt the heat building inside of her, his other hand still resting on her cheek, his thumb stroking across her skin.

“I remember.” It was like a mantra, as if by saying it over and over again, she could protect herself from anything ever making it untrue. As the tension coiled tighter and she felt her release grow near, she stared into his intense, unblinking gaze. “I love you.”

“Yes…. Yes, and I love you,” he said. His eyelids fluttering with the effort to keep them open as her climax washed over her and the tightening of her muscles around him sent him over the edge. He cried out, one short, almost pained sound, before leaning his head forward on her shoulder. Her own head tilted onto his, her breath ghosting over his hair as she slowly tried to catch it.

When at last they both had a grip on their minds again, Gold leaned back against the wall and looked at her as if he expected her to be the first to say something.

“I…. I’ll need your help with the papers,” she stammered. The words sounded ridiculous and out of place after everything that had just happened, but she was a mother above all else. James was her son, and he had to be her priority moving forward. She would have to file for custody, and that was a battle she did not look forward to fighting.

“Anything,” Rumpelstiltskin murmured, running a hand through her hair. “Anything in my power.” He smiled at her, and his smile was reassuring. Everything would be alright now that she had him again, now that he had her and they were together. It had taken nine years, but finally she had remembered.


End file.
